


𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑈𝑝

by Adrenalineshots, sonshineandshowers, TheFibreWitch



Series: Domino 🁡 [32]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Digital Art, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hallucinations, Harassment, Health Emergency, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mental Health Issues, Metafiction, Murder Mystery, Nightmares, Past assault as a teenager, Surrealism, Teenage Bright, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, Video, a lot of really strange stuff that happens in altered states of consciousness, anxiousness, canon minor character death, reader-driven, self-harm ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26504635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenalineshots/pseuds/Adrenalineshots, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFibreWitch/pseuds/TheFibreWitch
Summary: Selecting 𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑈𝑝 from the bookshelf, Malcolm travels through his own mind.Read this story at:https://www.thedominostory.com/#falling-upThis book is one part of the Domino series. If you have not yet read thePrefaceorIntroduction, please head there first.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Jackie Arroyo
Series: Domino 🁡 [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926451
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1
Collections: Domino 🁡, Prodigal Son Big Bang 2020 - Saturday Posts





	𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑈𝑝

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jameena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/gifts), [MissScorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/gifts), [ProcrastinatingSab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Falling Up](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/685372) by Shel Silverstein. 



> This book is one part of the Domino series. If you have not yet read the [Preface](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64577434#workskin) or [Introduction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588537#workskin), please head there first.
> 
> Betaed by the wonderful [Jameena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/), [MissScorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/), and [ProcrastinatingSab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/).
> 
> Credit to the creators and their works that inspired and were referenced in this work:  
>  **— Inspiration:**[Falling Up](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falling_Up_\(poetry_collection\)) \- Shel Silverstein  
>  **— Cover Song:**[It’s Alright](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CljbTjUVlPg) \- Sam Cooke
> 
> Brief parts of lines in italics attributed to the original work.

[](https://www.thedominostory.com/images/full/falling-up.jpg) |   
---|---  
  
“I like the voice,” John had said while Malcolm looked up at him from the basement floor.

Malcolm doesn’t exactly have a good history with the voice. His internal monologue is known to get him in trouble. Adding other people’s voices to it that play on endless repeat only makes things worse.

Gil and Jackie had tried to help him manage the voices as a teenager. Malcolm had gone out to the park for the evening in his best roughed up jeans, t-shirt, and eyeliner, and came back with a shiner and a black smudge across his face.

It wasn’t the first time. Jackie retrieved an ice pack from the fridge on autopilot and Gil pulled him to the couch. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Gil asked.

Malcolm shook his head and looked at the floor.

“You should have called — we would have come and picked you up.”

Malcolm shrugged. Gil’s thumb on his cheek brought his eyes up.

“Look at the ceiling a second,” Gil directed.

Malcolm followed instructions, and after a moment, Gil let him go.

“Just needs ice,” Gil said. “Lucky.”

Jackie sat beside him and handed him the ice pack wrapped in a dish towel, her other hand wiping at his ruined makeup with a towelette. “Please, Malcolm — you have to be more careful,” she said.

He was a target wherever he walked. The mere act of breathing made some angry with him. It didn’t help that interpersonal conversations weren’t his strong suit. He had nothing to offer anyone.

“What is it?” Jackie asked, her thumb and forefinger holding his chin while she worked.

“I’m not worth anything,” Malcolm said under his breath.

“What?!” Gil snapped, and Jackie shot him a glare.

“You mean the world to us,” Jackie stated firmly, hugging Malcolm with her free arm. “We want you to be safe.”

“We love you, kid,” Gil said freely in a way Malcolm could never understand.

“I don’t love me,” Malcolm whispered. He’d long ago given up on himself, and he needed Gil and Jackie to hear that, to understand where he was coming from.

“Out there, it’s hard. In here — ” Jackie rubs his chest. “You’ve got us, and you’ve got you. No one else can decide what’s right for you — only you get to control the voice in here.”

There were too many voices. Some days he wanted to carve them out with a kitchen knife. But the ideation brought more red flags and Gil and Jackie looking after him until they were dead on their feet.

After Jackie’s passing, her words first start showing up on daily affirmation cards. _Only you know what’s right for you_ looks back at him one day after pills, and he gives a small smile in return. _Listen to the voice that speaks inside_ comes on a day he barely makes it out of bed, a mere sip of coffee turning his stomach. The voice takes him back to bed, and he calls Gil instead of pushing it, curling up and accepting it isn’t a good day, but the next one might be.

Even with time, Jackie’s voice doesn’t fade. Her voice is the first persistent one with kindness, with love. There to guide him in a positive direction instead of one of self-destruction.

Sometimes his own voice inside is not kind. Tells him the fastest way to achieve silence is through a blade, a little extra something in his coffee, a trip to haunts he hasn’t visited since college. Races his heart and breathing, fills him with panic until he looks death in the eye.

He won’t die. Gil loves him, and he wants him safe. Looks out for him at the precinct or back at his loft, even when Malcolm should be able to take care of himself. Malcolm can’t disappoint Gil or Jackie with his foolishness.

So he ignores it. There’s a little itch. A tingle that sits beneath his skin. A flutter that grows to a flail and screeches, but he doesn’t give in to the temper tantrum. He distracts himself, and it passes.

Dealing with the aftermath of John stabbing him, it takes longer than usual for the feeling to abate. There’s joy, glee, and gratefulness that he’s alive, but his nightmares are worse again. With lack of sleep, the voices get louder, demand his attention.

 _I know that this is wrong_ , Malcolm repeats over and over again in his head, taking away space from some of his more negative thoughts. He remembers sneaking in next to Jackie in bed, arguably too old for seeking parental attention in such a way, yet it was the only thing that would keep him from doing something stupid. When Gil later woke, he would hug the both of them, one of the times Malcolm felt most safe.

Malcolm's phone buzzes in his pocket, and he answers. "How goes it, kid?" Gil asks.

"Could I have a hug?" Malcolm blurts before considering any response.

"Of course," Gil says, his voice deep with understanding. "I'll come over right now." Malcolm hears his keys jingling. "Do you want me to bring anything with me?"

Malcolm’s gut churns with how foolish his request is, but at the same time, he answers, "You."

"I think I can handle that."

Malcolm sits on the floor between the window and his bed and kicks his feet up against the wall. He can hear the engine of Gil's car through the line. "This is silly — I'm sorry."

"It's not," Gil's quick to remind him. "You asked for what you need. Half the battle."

"I can hang up — let you drive." Glancing toward the closet, Malcolm looks for something within reach that could provide comfort, but there’s nothing. Nothing compares to the man on the line.

"I'd like to talk to you if that's okay."

Malcolm stays quiet a moment, then picks at the skin on his thumb. "Yeah. What is it?"

"Do you think I should adopt a cat?"

Malcolm lets out a small chuckle, remembering the one that had showed up on their doorstep as a kid. "Do you want a cat?"

"I think so."

"So get one."

"Would you help me pick one?"

"Don't you think you should choose who goes home with you?" Gil hadn't picked Sunshine. Why would Malcolm select Gil's pet?

"I'm better at working with the ones that need help. Picking — I don't know."

"Yeah. I can help. Kitten or cat?" Malcolm pictures hugging the furball.

"Cat. Don't need a kitten tearing the place up. Plus, cats are harder to find homes."

"What are you going to call them?"

"You can help me decide."

"You don't want me naming them. You'll end up with Smile or Sunny.”

"That's alright. Last call on needing anything, kid. About to park."

"Use your key — come on up." Malcolm doesn't move from the floor, instead waiting for a positive voice to join him inside.

— ◌◯◌ —

Each step up the stairs echoes in the stairway, seemingly announcing how empty the loft is. Apart from Luisa stopping in to feed Sunshine at Jessica’s request, Gil knows no one’s been there.

He’s not even entirely sure why he’s there. Avoiding anything that looks like Jessica’s original request of him going home, he’s occupied himself with looking after everyone else. He can bring Bright a change of clothes and some other comforts from home. Something that will ease his stay when he wakes.

When, not if. He refuses to believe things will turn as dire for Bright as they did for the victim. They just need to wait long enough, and the kid will be driving them all up a wall again.

Gil collects a plastic grocery bag from under the sink and slips pajama pants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie into it. A few pairs of socks and underwear follow, and he tops off the bag with toothbrush, toothpaste, cleanser, lotion, and deodorant. Enough essentials to get him started until he can voice what else he wants.

Pausing at Sunshine’s cage, Gil takes out his phone and snaps a few photos. “Hi, girl,” he says, holding his finger up to the bars to scratch her head.

She hops on the perch by the door like she’s ready to get out. He could swear she gives him the same big eyes that Bright does. “Alright — for a little bit,” he says and opens the door, letting her out to fly. She immediately pops toward the living room, hopping and darting toward the light on the windowsill.

He supposes he can shower while she takes a few laps around the loft. That way, he will have complied with one of Jessica’s requests by the time he heads back. The rest… hopefully she doesn’t berate him too harshly for ‘forgetting’ she mentioned them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Head back to the [Bookshelf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588570#workskin) to pick another book. :)


End file.
